


Countdown to Christmas - A Swan Queen Advent

by AWorldOfNonsense (Buildnganempire)



Series: Countdown to Christmas [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Movies, Multi, hallmark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 15:18:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16895058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buildnganempire/pseuds/AWorldOfNonsense
Summary: A compilation of Swan Queen one-shots if Swan Queen only existed during the Hallmark Countdown to Christmas special.Almost 100% AU. Trying to get into the Christmas spirit!Yes, these are cheesy. Almost absurdly so. Have you ever seen a Hallmark Christmas special? Me either, but I imagine this is how they go!





	Countdown to Christmas - A Swan Queen Advent

The snow seems to fall harder the more Regina Mills looks out of the window. She closes the curtains with a huff. So much for getting to her Mother’s house early for Christmas. When she had awoken this morning, a foot of snow already lay on the ground surrounding the small inn she had lodged in for the night. According to her meticulous itinerary, Regina was set to arrive in Storybrooke, Maine by 8pm on Christmas Eve. 

Regina sighs as she sits on the edge of her already made bed. Going home for Christmas is not something she actually enjoys, even when she was a child. Her Mother is overbearing and constantly fussing over the holiday being perfect. And Regina, her Mother feels, is far from perfect. The clothes she chooses are never right, the topics of conversation never sophisticated enough, and by far the biggest blemish, from her Mother’s perspective, is the lack of a ring on her finger. So, she has chosen 8pm in order to avoid most of the Christmas Eve dinner with her Mother’s rich, snobby friends whose children are even worse than they are. 

Regina pulls up her phone’s weather app and looks around at her luggage. It had said nothing about the foot of snow on the ground when she had packed last night in preparation for this morning’s departure. In fact, it had said nothing about snow at all when she had planned her itinerary a week ago. Sliding her finger along the hourly forecast, Regina grits her teeth at the snow icon present well into the night. With a sigh, she throws her phone on the bed behind her and gets up to check the window again. 

She had chosen the small inn the first time she had moved from Storybrooke and started driving home for Christmas because it was secluded and home-y. That first year Regina had met Eugena Lucas, otherwise known as Granny, and had spent hours in the library talking to her. She had learned that the waitress in the dining room, Ruby, was her granddaughter, whom she had gotten custody of when the young girl’s parents had died when she was five. She had learned that the Inn had been in the family for generations, since the 1800s when it was built. When the weather was nicer, Regina liked to walk the ten acre grounds, set far back in the woods from the main road. Its trails were well-maintained and there was a small horse barrack back in the far corner. After that first year, Regina had planned a week long stay at the Inn before traveling the rest of the way to her Mother’s house. She would head to the barracks in the morning and drink coffee and brush the horses. Though they had a stable hand, Regina enjoyed spending time there as it reminded her of the good parts of her childhood. 

From her room Regina can see the front of the Inn, with its long driveway and roundabout leading to the main entrance. This morning, however, no trace of the gravel road can be seen, too covered in heavy, wet snow. She’d have to call her Mother and explain. Not that the woman would be at all sympathetic. She’d ask why Regina hadn’t left early enough and why she thought that snow in Maine for Christmas wasn’t a thing to be concerned about. Regina rolls her eyes. She’d save that particular conversation for after she extended her stay another night. Even as a voice inside of her own head, her Mother was overbearing. At least Granny would be warm and sympathetic and would have Ruby bring her a black coffee and her famous sugar plum cheese danish. Regina rarely eats pastries, but after that first year, she decided to make an exception for Granny. 

With that thought in mind, Regina exits her room and walks down the hallway. Its 19th century banister is carefully wrapped in lighted garland all the way down the staircase. She loves this place at Christmas. Its two fireplaces keep the entire home warm and there is always a faint smell of cinnamon and pine in the air. The tree in the foyer is tastefully decorated, as always, by Granny herself and various ornaments from over the years hang on the 9 foot tree. Regina has never been sure how they get the tree in through the doors or where they ever find a tree of that size, but every year it is roughly the same and always beautiful by the time she arrives. The other tree is placed in the library and is obviously decorated by children each year. It is something that her own Mother would never stand for but Regina loves the idea. After all, isn’t Christmas largely for children anyway?

With a smile, Regina descends the stairs and makes her way across the foyer to the front desk. There is already a line of people likely doing exactly as she intends. The Inn is always bursting full of guests during this time. People who have families in the area with no room to house, people like her who are just passing through, and people on vacation during the holidays. Regina recognizes some faces but as she keeps mostly to herself while she is here, she knows none of them personally. Granny and Ruby are both behind the desk today, dealing with reservations for cancelled plans and questions about when they think they’d be able to leave, she is sure. Watching them together stirs something inside of Regina; a hope that maybe one day she’ll have a family of her own to celebrate with instead of having to celebrate with a cold Mother and a warm, but uninvolved, Father. 

 

* * *

 

“Ma, can we go play in the snow, now?” The little voice infiltrates the dream Emma Swan is having about going to the North Pole and being allowed to eat as many bear claws as she wants. 

“Hmm?” Emma mumbles. She can tell that it was light outside now from the way the sun casts across the room, having forgotten to draw the curtains before they went to bed last night. Their room offers a view of the back of the property and Emma can tell that the snow that she saw in the early morning hours has now covered the grounds and is showing no signs of letting up. Henry had kicked her most of the night and therefore she is bruised and exhausted and not in any mood to get out of bed or go play in snow. She is still desperately trying to get back to the bear claws. “Yeah sure, kid.”

This is the first year Emma and Henry have stayed at the small Inn just outside of the larger town they usually stayed in. When Emma and Henry’s father, Neal, had broken up and Emma had moved Henry to the busy city of Chicago, Neal had let them go on the one condition that Henry spend his winter, spring and summer breaks in Storybrooke with him. Emma had readily agreed, not wanting Henry to grow up entirely without his father. When she had been offered the job with Chicago’s police department, far away from their home in Boston, it had taken a lot of discussion, including where they saw themselves as a couple. Ultimately, Neal had decided to move back to Storybrooke with his family and Emma would take Henry to Chicago. While their relationship was over, Neal was still Emma’s best friend and someone she was happy raising a child with. He was good with Henry, more so every year, and it thrilled Emma to see Henry so happy despite the circumstances.

Emma had decided on the Inn this year when one of her coworkers had come back from vacation raving about the place. It was only ten minutes out of the way from their usual hotel and by the internet reviews, Emma knew Henry would love it. At 4, he is precocious and always ready for the next adventure. While the hotel they have always stayed at has a pool and continental breakfast and the Disney channel, it doesn’t have a large playroom or kid’s craft nights or horses or a large castle-like playground. It also doesn’t have Granny, whom Henry had taken an immediate shine to. Or Ruby, who is wonderful with Henry despite her age. The Inn feels so much like home in just a few short days that Emma wonders how it is possible. As an orphan, Emma had been placed in many homes and had celebrated holidays with a variety of families and in a handful of group homes. None of those places felt as warm or inviting as the Inn. It is a feeling Emma has been searching for all of her life.

Emma snuggles further down into the warm comforter as the door clicks and creaks. “After breakfast I promise we can go outside. Just let me sleep a little bit longer, okay?”

Usually Henry is good in the mornings, keeping himself entertained so she can get a few more minutes of sleep. But this morning, when no response comes, Emma lifts her head to look around the room. The bed and the floor are both empty of the small child and Emma’s eyes sweep toward the door, which is hanging wide open. It’s not that she thinks Henry will get hurt or lost or somehow end up in traffic; they are much too far from any road and the grounds seem to be covered in so much snow that it would take Henry a while to navigate it should he find himself outside. But when your child disappears, all logic escapes with them. Which is why Emma, tousled bed head and mismatched pajamas, scrambles from the bed and flies out of the bedroom door. 

“Henry??” Emma yells down the hall, eyes darting frantically around. She spots him stepping from the landing into the foyer and, while her heart calms, she still needs to get to him. “Henry!”

Emma rounds the corner of the banister just as she sees Henry, already in his snowsuit, make a mad dash for the door. A lump rises in her throat at the thought. Of course, she knows that no cars are able to navigate the drive with the amount of snow on the ground, but watching your 4 year old dash toward a door is still heart stopping on its own. And then, just as Emma is willing her clumsy feet to quickly take the stairs, a calamity happens. 

Henry, in his too big snowsuit, plows into a beautiful woman’s legs, which catapults both of them toward the door, which opens just as they fall, revealing a tall blonde man covered in snow. The woman grabs for Henry, trying to break his fall despite her own, but topples over herself, into the arms of the snow covered stranger, who, taken off guard, falls to the floor. Emma stares at the scene, frozen in horror halfway down the stairs. It isn’t until Henry’s wail of “Mama!” that she clears the fog and continues to run toward him. She skids to a stop in front of the heap, quickly assessing limbs and heads and bodies. The brunette woman has a strong grip on Henry, holding him to her chest. He hadn’t hit the floor, the woman had broken his fall with her body, but his lower lip is trembling as tears slide over plump cheeks. 

The wind picks up and gusts through the open door and Emma shivers as she reaches for her son. The brunette lets go after a cursory glance and Henry reaches for her, still wailing. “Mama!”

Emma stares down at the woman as she gathers Henry tightly in her arms. The sharp cheekbones and perfectly coiffed hair that frames her face with black, loose curls makes Emma’s stomach flip. There’s a small scar on her top lip that makes Emma shiver for a different reason. She finally looks at the woman’s eyes, who are watching her and Henry. A rich shade of espresso and long eyelashes take them in. Emma blushes, hard. She just now remembers that her own hair is a tangled mess on top of her head and the pajamas she wore to bed don’t match in the slightest. She only has one sock on. 

The woman smiles and it takes Emma’s breath away. Her brain says help the woman up, thank her for saving your child, tell her she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. But then, the moment is gone.

 

* * *

 

“Uh, here, let me help you.” The tall blonde man who had broken  _ her _ fall says while shuffling around. She tears her eyes away from the other blonde in front of her. It’s harder than it should be. Something about the messy hair and infantile pajamas and the way she holds the toddler tight in her arms, slightly rocking, makes it hard for Regina to stop staring. But there’s a hand on her elbow and she’s been lifted and so she turns her attention toward the man behind her.

“Oh, thank you.” Regina takes this opportunity to assess him. Ruggedly handsome with blue eyes and a lopsided grin, she’s sure he’s the talk of whatever town he’s from. Likely married though, most men who look like him don’t stay single for long. Out of curiosity, Regina let’s her gaze drift down to the hand that is still at her elbow. No ring. Well, engaged then, soon to be married.

“My pleasure.” He’s still standing much too close, despite the fact that they are no longer on the floor and the door is shut and there’s no reason not to move away. “My name is Robin.”

Regina thinks this is a curious thing to say. After all, she only met him because she’d been plowed over by a small child. It’s of no consequence though because he smiles at her again in his lopsided way and she feels obligated to reciprocate. “Regina.”

“Emma.” It’s offered in a deadpan manner, as if she knows exactly how obnoxious it is but chooses to do it anyway. 

Regina swivels her head toward the other woman. The child in her arms has quieted now but the woman’s hand never stops rubbing a soothing motion on his back. Her hands itch to also soothe the child and Regina curls them into fists by her sides. 

“Henry!” The child rears back in exclamation, obviously finding this new ‘game’ hilarious. His face is partly obscured by the hood of his snowsuit but Regina can see his baby-toothed grin and deep dimples. She can’t help but smile widely in return. Truthfully, she’s always been fond of children, despite her Mother’s insistence that children only disrupt career goals and relationships. As a child, whenever her Mother would mention it, Regina would get upset, only thinking of how she could stop being such a burden on her own Mother. Now, as an adult, Regina realizes that her Mother was simply never fit to have a child and likely only did so at her father’s insistence. She’s vowed to never make any child she might have in the future feel the same.

“Would you like to have breakfast with me?” The deep voice next to her asks and Regina turns her attention back Robin. His coat is now hanging on the coat rack by the door and he’s wearing a heavy flannel that’s unbuttoned to show the white henley beneath. He’s also only looking at her, offering breakfast only to her and it causes Regina to raise an eyebrow. While she had been preoccupied with the other parties in their presence, she doesn’t think he’s even acknowledged that they exist. 

“That…” Regina starts but is cut off almost immediately by Emma.

“Well, thanks for having my kid.” With that Emma transfers Henry to her hip and turns, stalking back up the stairs from which she came. Regina watches as they climb the stairs, listens as Emma quietly chastises Henry for leaving the room and running into her. Watches until they turn the corner and disappear beyond the hall to their room.

Robin clears his throat. “So, breakfast?”

Regina turns her attention back to him and shakes her head. “Sorry, there are a few things I need to take care of, but thank you.”

The grin he was wearing drops from his face as he frowns. “Sure. Maybe some other time?”

He’s the kind of man, on surface, her Mother would approve of. Good-looking, seemingly strong, blonde hair and blue eyes that would look lovely on her arm during family functions. His smile and laid back demeanor would charm anyone in the room. But Regina isn’t her Mother, she doesn’t fall for the boyish charm anymore. She falls for intelligence and stubbornness and reliability and loyalty. And while Regina has just met this man, she has a strong inkling that he fails the mark at most of those.

“Maybe.” She offers him this despite the fact that she really has no intention of having any meal with this man. She still isn’t convinced he’s not already seeing someone else who may not have traveled with him. She turns, heading toward the front desk again, and wonders still about the blonde and her son.

 

* * *

 

It’s sometime after lunch before she catches a glimpse of them again. Really, it’s just Henry she sees, who seems to be under the care of Ruby, in the kitchen. A quick glance around tells Regina that his Mother is nowhere in sight. This both relieves and upsets her but she isn’t going to waste any time right now trying to unpack those emotions. Henry and Ruby look up as she enters the kitchen properly and both offer her a wide, toothy smile.

“Regina!” His remembering her name surprises her and clearly confuses Ruby, who frowns and looks back at him. They are baking cookies and both have chef’s aprons on. On Henry’s head is a chef’s hat that, judging by the size, is pinned back to fit him properly. He’s standing on a chair that has been pulled up to the counter and there’s flour everywhere and various cookie cutters littered about.

“Good afternoon, Henry. Happy to see you again.” It’s a genuine sentiment, one that Regina isn’t sure she really feels until she’s telling him and it’s resonating within her whole being. 

“Ruby and I are baking cookies!” Henry tells her, as if that much isn’t obvious already.

Regina gestures toward the counter and moves closer. “I see that. What kind?”

“Sugar cookies and ginger men.” Henry answers before his attention is turned toward the flattened white dough below. “Santa is coming tonight. Mama says we have to stay here.”

He sounds somewhat disheartened at this. It’s possibly why his attention has been averted to making cookies in the kitchen with Ruby instead of on wherever he was supposed to have Christmas at. It isn’t until this moment that Regina gives any thought to the fact that there must be a Mr. Emma, a dad for Henry. 

She shrugs off the disappointment that surprises her and continues the conversation. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He pushes a snowman cookie cutter into the dough. “We were supposed to have Christmas at Daddy’s.”

And there it is. Henry has a father that he and Emma are trying to get home to. The disappointment settles deep. For once, Regina wishes that she had someone to go home to for Christmas aside from her parents. She wishes she had cookie making and Christmas tunes by the fire and little hands unwrapping giant presents. 

Regina shakes her head, clearing the thoughts. She’s still young, it’ll still happen, she reminds herself. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Henry shrugs, still not looking up from his work. “Mama says this house has  _ two _ fireplaces and Santa could come down  _ either one. _ ”

It flutters her heart. She’d never believed in Santa, her Mother made sure of that. Christmas was just another holiday that they had to participate in to keep up appearances. But her Mother wanted her to know that every gift came from her, and as such, could also be taken away by her. She never got to question how presents ‘appeared’ or whether cookies would be eaten. She’d never stayed up trying to catch a glimpse of the jolly man in red. Her Mother had put out all of the gifts on Christmas Eve every year. The only cookies made were those for the Christmas Eve party. 

“Your Mama is right. This house  _ does _ have two fireplaces. I wonder which one he’ll use?” Regina plays along, winking at Ruby who smiles in delight as she loads yet another cookie sheet.  

“Why don’t we make some chocolate chip cookies? I hear Santa really likes those.” Ruby suggests, opening the oven and sliding the cookie sheet in. “Maybe Regina can get those started while you decorate the gingerbread men?”

Ruby motions toward the baking supplies scattered along the counter as Henry throws a fist in the air in solidarity. “Yeah! Ginger men!” 

Regina chuckles at the child’s enthusiasm before surveying the kitchen. “I think I remember how to make chocolate chip cookies.”

Ruby passes her a clean mixing bowl as Regina sorts out the ingredients, measuring them according to the instructions on the card. The handwriting seems like Granny’s, likely a recipe passed down generations. It warms her insides that she’s getting to participate in the festivities. 

“I’m not doing a very good job. What if Santa doesn’t like my cookies?” Henry’s chin wobbles and Regina, one hand scooping out sugar from the bag, looks over. He’s using a squeeze bottle with a nozzle to outline the gingerbread man in front of him. And while it’s obvious a child is responsible for the decorating, it at least resembles a gingerbread man.

“You’re doing a lovely job. Santa will be so happy to eat your cookies.” She reassures, touching his arm. 

“What if…” Henry trails off. He’s stopped decorating now and it staring at the counter, blinking harshly. 

Regina stops measuring the flour, one hand still in the bag as she bends to look at him in the eyes. “What if what, Henry?”

“What if Santa doesn’t come here because he doesn’t know I’m here?” Henry whispers, as if saying it any louder will make it come true.

Regina’s heart breaks. “Oh Henry,”

“Santa will come wherever you are, buddy.” Emma’s voice enters the room and Regina startles. She yanks her hand up out of the flour bag as she whirls around in surprise, causing flour to fly up in the air and all over the front of her shirt. 

It’s quiet for a moment before Henry’s laughter fills the air. He squeals in delight. “Regina! There’s flour on your shirt!”

Regina’s still staring at Emma who is very obviously trying not to laugh. Somewhere behind her Ruby cackles and that’s all it takes for Emma to crack. Soon they’re all laughing and Regina’s trying to wipe the flour off with hands that are still covered in flour, which only makes it worse and causes more laughter to ensue. Emma reaches for a towel and moves in closer and that’s when Regina stops laughing. She watches as Emma lifts the towel and wipes the tip of her nose.

“You got a little…” Emma chuckles, handing the towel over so Regina can take care of the rest. 

“Thanks.” Regina grins back. They stare at each other until the timer dings in the background and Ruby announces that the cookies are done. And once Henry is finished his second gingerbread man, Emma announces it’s time for lunch and they’re off, Emma quick on Henry’s heels as he races through the kitchen and into the dining room.

Regina isn’t hungry yet so she hangs back and helps Ruby clean up the mess they’d made. They’re more than halfway done cleaning before Ruby speaks. “So, Emma and Henry, huh?”

Regina’s confused until she looks up and Ruby is giving her a knowing smile. She rolls her eyes. “I think they’re a nice family, that’s all. Henry is such a joy.”

“Mmhmm.” Ruby clearly doesn’t believe her. Which is okay. She’s more invested in the little family than she’s ready to admit yet. It’s not every day that a little boy runs her over and his mother is gorgeous. But they’ll all be gone tomorrow. Off to wherever it is that Henry’s dad lives. And possibly Emma’s partner. And Regina will go to Storybrooke for the remainder of her vacation and then back to Chicago, alone. Maybe she’ll see them next year. Or maybe next year she’ll be closer to having a family of her own. Either way, she’s trying very hard not to think about the butterflies she gets every time Emma is around. Or the way her heart feels when Henry says her name.

“I think I’ll go visit the horses.” Is all Regina says in response before exiting the kitchen and going to change before meandering down to the stables.

 

* * *

 

“I’m gonna get you!” Emma’s voice carries and Regina smiles. She can’t see them yet but she’s sure Emma’s talking to Henry. She can hear his giggles piercing the quiet. It’s still snowing, though it’s let up considerably, and she’d had only a quick visit with the horses. Her feet are starting to get cold despite the boots and the wool socks and it’s taking a lot of effort to trudge back up the hill. If she had to guess, she’d guess there was a foot of snow down already with clearly more to come. 

When the pair finally come into view, Regina smiles even wider. Emma is chasing Henry around the yard. Though chasing would be a very strong word for what they are doing in actuality. The snow is too high for Henry to run with his short legs so he’s hopping, scrambling across the snow as Emma imitates what is possibly a snow monster, raising one leg at a time and stomping down. She watches from a distance for a while, enjoying Henry’s squeals and Emma’s reassurances that she’s the ‘biggest, baddest snow monster around who eats little boys for dinner’, until she feels compelled to join. Emma’s almost bearing down on Henry, who can’t seem to get his feet beneath him and Regina reaches down, grabbing a handful of snow. She packs it down, just like her childhood best friend taught her to do, before launching it directly at Emma’s back. 

It hits Emma squarely, who yelps in surprise before jerking back and falling flat into the snow. Henry blinks at his Mother before looking up. “Regina! You saved me!” 

He yells in delight, scrambling again to get up and make his way to her. Regina laughs and ambles toward him, glancing at Emma a few times to make sure she isn’t entirely offended.

“Not fair! I got ambushed!” Emma pouts though it seems suspiciously over exaggerated to Regina. 

“Yes fair, the monster can’t win!” Henry throws over his shoulder at his mother as he continues his path toward Regina. They finally meet and Henry throws his arms around her legs. “You’re my hero!”

Regina can’t explain the way her heart spasms or the tears that prick her eyes. She sniffles and clears her throat before looking down. “Very happy to assist, your majesty.” 

Henry beams up at her and gives her one last squeeze before he’s turning back around toward Emma, who is standing and wiping snow from her jeans. She watches Henry throw himself to the ground, arms and legs spread wide and head to the sky as she makes her way to Emma. 

“Good one.” Emma elbows her once she gets close. Snowflakes are falling on her gorgeous blonde hair and her eyelashes and it takes everything in Regina not to reach over and touch them. Her cheeks are rosy and eyes bright and she’s nothing short of breathtaking in this moment. 

Regina offers a sly grin. “I couldn’t very well let him get eaten by a  _ snow monster _ now could I? I was only doing my civic duty.”

“Your civic duty, huh?” Emma grins back. “Do you often go running to the aid of children in distress?”

Regina chuckles at the thought. Surely she’s no knight in shining armor. But Emma doesn’t have to know that. “Of course. And damsels in distress.”

Emma’s cheeks seem pinker than a moment ago. “Oh really?”

“Yes, really.” This is definitely flirting, Regina thinks, and it feels good. Emma isn’t stomping off and there isn’t an audience to be entirely mindful of. “Though I do have a certain preference in terms of damsels. I don’t just rescue all of them.”

Emma laughs at this. “And what preferences might those be?”

Regina thinks this is it, she can go all in, let Emma know she’s into her. Or, she can play it cool and keep this game up. Her eyes drift from Emma’s to her lips. They are still so pink but starting to shade purple with the cold. “Well, they definitely have to be blonde…”

“Mama! Regina! Look at my angel!” Henry yells over to them, gesturing toward the ground.

Both heads snap toward him at once, moment broken, and they make their way toward him. He’s beaming, proud of the blob he’s made on the ground. Regina smiles but it’s Emma who speaks first. “Wow, that’s an awesome snow angel, kid!”

Henry beams even more and then shivers. Regina isn’t sure how long they’d been out there but it’s clear it’s time for Henry to get inside. Emma senses this too and swoops him up into her arms. “Time to go inside now, little man.”

“But Mama! We need to build a snowman!” Henry protests despite clinging to her and burrowing his face into her neck. 

They walk together toward the house. “Later. We’ll build a snowman later. Right now we have to get warmed up a bit. Mama is freezing. See my nose? It’s so cold I think it’ll fall off!”

Emma winks at her and the butterflies go crazy. Henry giggles. “Mama, you’re silly.”

“Yes, she is.” Regina offers quietly, following them into the warm house and out of the cold.

 

* * *

 

 

The Inn is hosting a Christmas Eve dinner and Emma is entirely grateful. They should be in Storybrooke right now, at Neal’s house, surrounded by family and deep into their Christmas traditions. Instead, she’s got a 4 year old sequestered in a single bed room in a house full of adults. He’s restless and anxious and has never spent Christmas Eve without his family. She had called Neal hours ago, using Facetime so that he could talk to Henry. They had both hoped that the snow would ease and the roads would be plowed enough for them to leave to make it to Storybrooke before morning. But as Emma stares out the window, falling snow only illuminated now by the porch lights, she’s sure that’s not going to happen. They’ll be lucky if they make it to Storybrooke for Christmas at all. 

So she had given Henry a bath and dressed him in his Christmas vest and bow tie and was currently waiting on him to do his own hair. Emma turns from the window to watch him fondly. He’s running a comb through his short, wet hair in front of the full length mirror, trying to get the hair in the back to stay down. It won’t, she knows, but it rarely results in tears these days. “Henry, you almost ready for dinner? We don’t want to be late.”

“Done, Mama.” Henry bounces, still staring at himself in the mirror. He takes another look at his hair and outfit before bounding over to her and taking her hand. 

As soon as they leave the room, the smell of various spices fills the air and Emma’s stomach grumbles. Henry’s eyes light up and she’s grateful that they aren’t in the hotel with the normal room service fare. This Inn is more than lodging, it’s a home created by a family who truly cares about people. Emma looks around the dining area as they enter through the open doorway. The round tables are covered with red tablecloths and adorned with candles and holly and sprigs of pine. It’s so beautiful that Emma feels another surge of gratitude. 

Before she can think of where they should sit, Regina appears next to her. “I hope I’m not too presumptuous, but I thought that maybe you and Henry would like to have dinner with me? I had Ruby bring in the booster seat for Henry. If…”

“That would be really great.” Emma smiles. The woman really is beautiful. And magnetic. And everything Emma wants in a partner, except that she’s straight. And Emma made a promise to herself a long time ago to never fall in love with a straight woman. Regina pulls out a chair for her and helps settle Henry into his booster before sitting down herself. She’s just a nice person, Emma tells herself. And she’s probably secretly shacking up with that blonde idiot guy from this morning. That’s how it works, right? Beautiful woman falls, literally, into handsome man when snowed in with nowhere to go and then ends up falling, figuratively, for him. She looks up and Regina is smiling fondly at Henry. Ah, Henry, of course. The little charmer has weaseled his way into this woman’s heart in less than a day and that’s what this is all about.

Emma sits up straighter and takes a sip of her water, offering a smile to Regina when she looks over. The more people in her son’s life who love him, the better, she thinks. He definitely has his father’s charm and, unfortunately, her coordination. Someone clears their throat and Emma looks up. 

“Regina, I figured that we could have dinner together tonight as we had a raincheck for breakfast.” Emma stifles a groan. It’s the man from the foyer this morning, in all his grinning, shit-eating glory. Wonderful. 

Regina looks at him and then at Emma and Henry in turn. “Well, actually…”

He’s already sliding a chair out and whatever it is that Regina was going to say, dies on her lips. Instead, she offers a tight smile as he takes a seat. Emma notes that Regina seems uncomfortable but she isn’t sure why. Clearly this man thinks he’s entitled to be sitting here at this table with them. Henry is looking back and forth between the new man and Emma. So she offers him a comforting smile and he busies himself with coloring on the kid’s placement Regina had thoughtfully gotten for him.

“So... “ Emma starts but is cut off.

“So, Regina, I was thinking…” Robin also starts, not acknowledging his other dinner companions.

“You were?” Emma blurts out in surprise and skepticism. He doesn’t seem like the intellectual type. He’s handsome, sure, but she thinks that’s likely all he has going for him.

Regina shoots her an amused glare. Okay, she should have kept her mouth shut but the guy rubs her the wrong way and sometimes she can’t help putting her foot in her mouth. Emma blushes and reaches over to play tic-tac-toe with Henry. This dinner is now sufficiently awkward and Emma tries to keep her head down and not listen to the conversation on the other side of the table. There are a lot of “hmmm”s and “oh?”s coming from Regina’s end of the conversation and Emma secretly hopes that Regina hates this man as much as she does. The eating portion of the dinner is quiet and Emma is thankful because she’s not sure she can make small talk with a man who is doing his level best to ignore her and her son. 

Finally, the desserts come out and Henry bounces in his seat. “I made these cookies!” 

There’s a small plate of cookies and a piece of apple pie for each of them and ice cream in a dish. Emma’s heart melts. “You did a great job, kiddo.”

Henry beams. “Regina helped too!”

Emma flashes back to the flour incident and chuckles, glancing Regina’s way. She can tell she’s thinking of it too, if the faint blush on her cheeks is any indication. 

“Oh, well they are delicious, Regina.” Robin compliments as he snatches a cookie and bites into it. Emma rolls her eyes. 

“Actually, Henry is responsible for how delicious these cookies are. I simply threw flour all over the kitchen.” Regina corrects and Emma likes her just a bit more for it.

Robin reaches for her hand and Emma starts scarfing down her dessert and encouraging Henry to do the same. They finish quickly and Emma stands abruptly. “Well, this was fun. Henry and I need to head out though.”

Regina frowns and Henry begins to protest but Emma lifts him from the chair and on to her hip. They are whisking out of the dining room, heading back upstairs in less time than it takes for Regina to stand. 

“Mama! What are we doing?” Henry protests. He’s looking back, behind her shoulder at Regina and frowning.

“We’ve got to get ready for Santa! We have so much to do!” Emma knows it’s low, using her son’s love of Santa to get out of being in an awkward situation, but she’s not going to think about it. She’s going to enjoy Christmas Eve with her son and keep his focus off of not being with his Dad. And keep her focus off of the gorgeous brunette. 

 

* * *

 

Regina can not stop thinking about the abrupt departure of the blonde and her son the entire evening. Even now, as she settles into the love seat in the library with her book and a mug of hot tea, her mind wanders to the woman. It had been nice, those first few minutes of dinner when it had been just the three of them. Regina’s heart had burst with how enthralled Henry had been with everything. Simple additions like candles and holly to the tables had him mesmerized and Regina just loves seeing the amazement in his eyes. Christmas had never been that special to her and now she longs for someone to share it with whose eyes light up in awe. 

A loud bang against the door jolts Regina and she turns toward the offending sound. 

“No, Neal, I know. I’m sorry.” It’s Emma and she’s carrying a large wrapped box and holding her phone to her ear with her shoulder. “I wish we could be too.”

Emma catches her staring and gives a small, tight smile. And then almost drops the box she’s holding. Regina stands and circles the couch, steadying the box from the other side. Emma’s smile is more genuine now as she nods toward the tree in the corner. Regina follows her in silence as they navigate to the tree and place the box in front of it.

Emma runs a hand through her now messy hair. “I’ve gotta go. I know this sucks but I think we’ll be able to head out first thing.” She’s staring into the fire and Regina just watches her. It doesn’t sound like the conversation had been an altogether pleasant one. “Okay. Bye.”

Emma sighs loudly as she pockets the phone again. “Sorry about the noise and...disturbing you.”

Emma motions toward the couch and the forgotten book on it. Regina averts her attention; the book, the tea, the thoughts she was having directly prior to Emma’s arrival. When she turns back to Emma, the blonde is looking at her expectantly. So she smiles, stepping forward more, closer to Emma. “No, it’s okay. I hadn’t even started reading yet. Do you…”

Regina trails off. She isn’t sure what she’s trying to ask but she desperately wants to spend more time with the woman. But it’s possible that Emma really wants to get back to Henry, who must be upstairs fast asleep by now. 

It’s Emma who saves her before she has to come up with some way to finish that question. “I have to figure out how to put a bike together, wanna help?”

It’s said in such a way that Emma surely thinks Regina will say no. But all Regina wants in this moment is to be in the blonde’s presence for as long as she’ll have her. “Yes.”

Maybe it’s the immediate response, maybe it’s the enthusiasm. Whatever it is, Emma laughs loudly before motioning toward the door. “Well, you might wanna get a coat on. I have to get it from my car and I think I’m going to need a little help.”

Ten minutes later, bike parts are scattered around them, along with a tool box procured from Ruby and a booklet containing twenty pages of directions. Regina picks up the booklet and leafs through the pages. “Okay, it looks like we start with the tires.”

She quickly reads through the instructions while Emma gathers the tires and necessary screws. It’s relatively easy; Regina stands and holds the frame while Emma mounts the front, and then back, tires and secures them tightly. Next, is the handlebar. This step, however, proves much more difficult. 

Emma is struggling with the handlebars while Regina holds the front tire in place. “Why won’t this stay straight? And why doesn’t it look like the photo?”

Emma laments while Regina divides her attention between watching her and flipping helplessly through the instructional booklet. Emma’s tightening and untightening the screws, trying to force the handlebars in the opposite direction when tightening causes the front tire to jerk between Regina’s legs. “I’m not sure. Here, let me…”

Regina reaches for the Allen wrench in Emma’s hand, their knees bumping in the process. Regina can feel the flush on her face as she fiddles with another screw while Emma watches, her long blonde hair brushing Regina’s shoulder. When the screw is again tightened and Regina looks up, it’s into a set of the greenest eyes she’s ever seen. Until now, they’d been too far apart for Regina to really get a good look. But now she sees that they are a deep green with grey specks. The lights of the Christmas tree twinkle in them as Emma stares back at her. 

She isn’t, entirely, sure who makes the first move, but the next thing Regina knows, her lips are meeting the pink soft ones across from her. A hand is snaking around the back of her neck and pulling her in and she surges forward, blindly reaching for anything she can of the blonde’s. Her hand finds purchase on Emma’s hip as the kiss deepens. Emma’s licking and biting and devouring until suddenly she pulls away. Regina stands there panting, afraid to move, and Emma has a wild look in her eyes that Regina’s not sure what to make of.

“I’m sorry.” Regina’s world crashes around her. Emma looks around the room suddenly. “I… where’s your boyfriend?”

“What?” Her  _ boyfriend _ ? She hasn’t had a boyfriend since high school. “My what?”

Emma steps back and Regina’s hand falls, hitting the handlebars of the bike still between them. She motions toward the library door. “You know… forest boy, smells like pine, probably doesn’t bathe?”

Regina scoffs, offended immediately. “My boyfriend? Robin? Absolutely not.”

“He’s not?” Emma still seems skeptical despite the horrified face Regina is making. 

“No. I don’t even know the man. Though, he’s decided to insert himself into my life any chance he gets.” Regina rolls her eyes. She’d rather be celibate the rest of her life than entertain another dinner with him. 

“So… you’re not…” Emma trails off. There’s a flush on her face for a different reason.

Regina huffs and folds her arms. “No, Emma. I am not dating Robin. I don’t date men, as a rule.”

“You don’t?” Emma asks, as if this thought had never occurred to her before.

“I haven’t dated any man since I realized I was a lesbian my senior year of high school.” Regina assures. 

Emma chuckles suddenly. “Oh, gawd. All this time!”

“All this time.” Regina smiles finally, confirming for Emma. 

Emma throws her hands up and shakes her head, then leans in, kissing her soundly on the mouth before chuckling again. It makes Regina smile wider and soon they are laughing loudly in the middle of the library, a half assembled Spiderman bike between the two. 

In the morning, Henry races down the stairs, loudly proclaiming “Santa came!” while Emma and Regina trail him. He rides his bike in the foyer and then out on the winding sidewalk as cars are packed and goodbyes are said. They drive separately but together toward Storybrooke where Regina bypasses her Mother’s estate and continues on to Neal’s house. There they have a lovely dinner while Neal tries to keep his questioning glances to himself and Henry squeals at Santa’s second round of gifts and Emma laughs and laughs. Regina’s belly is full of food and her heart full of something a lot like love but maybe, also, Christmas.

_ The End. _


End file.
